


Things We Do In The Dark

by ssswampert



Category: RWBY
Genre: Kinda?, M/M, Miscommunication, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssswampert/pseuds/ssswampert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts out as stress relief turns into a mutual confession of feelings and ends up a try at exclusivity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Do In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> requested by anonymous. got out of hand and way more explicit than originally intended. >_> sorry?

****_ Wanna meet? _ Qrow sends off the text and then hesitates before sending another.  _ Eclipse? _ The location decides the tone for the rest of the evening, and Qrow is excited.

_ Sure _ , James replies quickly.  _ Give me a few minutes to finish here and I’ll meet you there. _

Qrow’s stomach leaps.

They’d been doing this for months--meeting at Eclipse and going back to Qrow’s apartment for stress relief that usually ended with James’ cock in Qrow’s mouth.

Hopefully this time would be no different, Qrow catches himself thinking. He starts walking, knowing that when he gets to Eclipse from his apartment, James will either already be there or be arriving soon after. And, right on schedule, James’ ride is dropping him off as Qrow saunters up.

“Y’know,” he calls, leaning on the painted brick of the building. “I look forward to this for more than just stress relief.” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it and Qrow just barely resists turning and smashing his own head into the wall he’s so helpfully leaned against.

He can see James’ raised eyebrows in the orange glow of the street lamp. “Really, now,” James says. Qrow folds his arms over his chest. “Care to divulge?” He tips his head to one side and the dim light throws his jaw into sharp relief.

Qrow wants to bite it--James’ neck, his jaw, both, he has no preference. He just wants to sink his teeth into the flesh above the collar of that neatly pressed greatcoat hard enough to mark. Somewhere it will show and make James think of him when someone stares at it. His mouth waters. “Nah,” he says. “Let’s just get outta here.”

James’ chuckle is honey and whiskey, slow and warming Qrow from the inside out. “You don’t want to stay? Have a drink or two?” he asks, already starting back down the sidewalk to Qrow’s apartment.

Once they reach his front door, Qrow pulls out his keys and slips them into the lock, and James bends to begin pressing kisses along the side of his neck, hands at his waist. Qrow’s breath hitches, and he tilts his head to give James more room. He’s already half-hard. “Gets you every time,” James says against his neck, low and rumbling and very clearly amused.

“Shut  _ up _ .” The second word is punctuated by a soft moan muffled by Qrow pressing his lips tight together. They  _ are  _ still outside, after all.

The kiss they share once inside, James’ back pressed against the inside of his front door, is neither rushed nor frantic, and yet still mostly teeth and tongue. Qrow’s hands open the buttons on James’ coat and push it off his shoulders, and then slide down his front to undo his belt buckle and pop the button of his slacks. James bites first at his collarbone and then muffles the sharp gasp he lets out when Qrow slides his hand in the front of James’ pants by biting hard into the crook of his neck. “ _ Ah _ ,” Qrow breathes, followed by a soft whine.

He grips James through his boxers and grins at the way James jolts and presses himself into Qrow’s hand. “You act like you’ve never been touched before sometimes, you know that, right Jim?” he teases, voice rough. James lets him go and kisses the indents in his shoulder, then slides his hands from Qrow’s waist to grope at his backside.

“Maybe it’s just you,” James says, and Qrow feels himself flush. “Not that I’m, ah, complaining, but do we have to do this against your front door?” he asks.

Qrow smirks, sliding to his knees and tugging James’ pants around his thighs. “Why, getting stage fright?”

“No, I just thought it might be more comfortable for both of us.” He gestures to the hardwood floor under Qrow’s knees. Still, James shifts his stance wider and lets his head fall back against the door with a thump. His boxers come down next, and then Qrow pulls him out and strokes a few times. He licks a stripe up the side, cool metal on his tongue, and James slams his left hand against the door.

“Got your calibrations redone, I see,” Qrow notes, eyebrows raised. He strokes a few more times, and James bites down on the first two knuckles of his right hand. James threads the fingers of his left hand through Qrow’s hair. Qrow leans into it. “Now you’re gettin’ the idea.”

James tugs on his hair and Qrow lets out a soft moan that washes over the metal in his hand. James tugs again, and Qrow licks his lips. “You  _ really  _ want your dick sucked, don’t you,  _ General _ ? Gonna get rough?” he purrs. James grunts and tugs a third time, this time hard enough to sting the slightest bit along his scalp, then loosens his fingers. Qrow laughs around another moan and takes him into his mouth.

“Finally,” James hisses.

Qrow pulls off and licks the head. “There wasn’t even that long a wait, shit. Impatient,” he says. “Still...” He licks a long line up the seam on the underside. “I like you kinda a lot, so I’ll keep suckin’.” He licks again, swallows him down as far as he can go, and hollows his cheeks.

James has gone still. His right hand drops to Qrow’s shoulder. “W-wait...” he rasps. Qrow pulls off again and wipes spit from his chin with the back of his hand. “You like me?” James asks. “‘ _ Kinda a lot _ ’?”

Qrow’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, what gave it away? My mouth on your dick, or what?” he snips, fingers circling the base. He strokes once, then twice.

“Well, yes--I mean, clearly you consented to it, I--Qrow.” James disengages Qrow’s hand and drags him to stand. “Can we discuss this?”

“What’s there to discuss?” Qrow grouches, facing away from the other. “ _ Clearly _ ,” his tone is mocking, bordering on hurt. “Clearly I consented to  _ stress relief _ but what if somewhere along the way I…”

“Didn’t want to do it--”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, James. I still want to do this. I  _ like _ it. I  _ like _ sucking your dick.” Qrow feels the back of his neck burn and knows from experience that James isn’t faring much better on the not-blushing front.

“So what was it?” James presses, but carefully. When Qrow looks back at him, he makes an oddly comedic picture for the situation--pants and boxers around his thighs, cybernetic cock still standing at attention against the tails of a rumpled shirt, and a soft, concerned look on his reddened face. “What happened?”

“What am I supposed to tell you?” Qrow demands. He crosses his arms over his chest and ignores the way that James’ continued interest despite their serious talk makes his own interest ache. He drags his eyes away from it. “That somewhere along the line my feelings changed and now I get  _ butterflies in my tummy _ like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever you agree to this  _ casual stress relief _ ?”

James sighs softly and reaches out to cup Qrow’s chin. “I suppose if that’s what you want to tell me.”

“Don’t.” Qrow bats his hand away. James lets it fall to his side. “Don’t pity me.”

“It’s not pity,” James says. “If I’d have known… Is there anything else?”

“Like what?” the shorter of the two cries, throwing his hands in the air. “That I want this to be more than casual? That I want this to be more than stress relief? That I want it to--to  _ mean _ more?” The erection still trapped in his pants is flagging, waning with the thought of emotions ruining everything.  _ If only he’d kept his mouth shut _ . He swallows thickly.

“Qrow…” James says softly. He touches Qrow’s shoulder, but Qrow moves it away.

“I want us to be exclusive, and I wasn’t. Yknow. Gonna say anything about it, um. Ever. Because I was just happy getting to be your stress relief and your friend.” That was more than he’d ever planned on admitting too. God, feelings were complicated. “I dunno. I just. I dunno. Whatever. Nevermind. I know you’re not interested.”

“Does this look not interested to you?” James asks. Qrow looks, and snorts when he sees James motioning to his groin.

“Well, I  _ was _ just sucking it--”

“Don’t,” James interrupts. “Who said I wasn’t interested?”

“Nobody had to  _ say _ , Jim. You never made any moves, you never even really mentioned this even when we were out for drinks or something. How was I supposed to infer anything else?” Qrow growls.

James hums. “I thought you weren’t interested outside of our trysts. You do cut quite the figure as a ladies man.”

Qrow rolls his eyes. “I thought  _ you _ weren’t interested. Why would you be? I’m never around, I’m usually drunk--always, if you ask someone else--I’m lewd, I’m loud, I’m rude, I’m… not what people expect someone like you to go for.”

“Qrow…” James says again, not reaching out this time.

“Damn it, James. Stop saying my name like that!” Qrow says, taking a couple steps back.

“Like what?” James replies, sounding taken aback.

“Like you care or some shit, I dunno.” Qrow turns his back on James and listens to the sounds of James tucking himself away and redoing his belt. He feels more than hears James step closer.

“I do care, though,” he says, voice low. “I distanced myself from you outside of these meetings because I thought you didn’t.”

Qrow laughs, bitter and sarcastic. “Well aren’t we just a big ball of miscommunication,” he says, turning. James’ expression is serious, but not General Ironwood-level serious. This relaxes Qrow a bit, knowing that James is not retracting into himself for this unexpected heart-to-heart. He surprises himself by stepping closer to James and leaning against him.

James’ arms come around him, gentle enough that he could get free with a simple movement if he wanted to. “I was hoping we could fix that miscommunication,” he says gently. Qrow hears it rumble where his ear is pressed against the left side of James’ chest. “Would you like me to be more open about how I feel?”

Qrow hesitates. He nods.

“I was scared, at first,” James says. “Of getting hurt. Of being vulnerable. Of opening up to you enough so that you see part of myself that I quite literally keep covered on a day-to-day basis.” He pauses, assessing the moment. “No joke about my anatomy?” he teases.

Qrow shakes his head. “I know when and when not to make jokes, Jim.” He presses his face into James’ chest, and James’ hand comes up to cradle his head, run fingers through his hair. “Anything else?” he prods, muffled in James’ vest. It’s a clear mirror of James’ own pressing moments ago, and he’s all too aware of it.

“Honestly,” James begins again, slowly. “I would very much like to kiss you right now, Qrow.”

“We do that all the time,” Qrow mumbles.

“I’m aware--but it’s usually followed by other acts. This time I would just like to kiss you. That’s all. Nothing else expected.” James takes a deep breath. “I would also, if you’re willing, like to try exclusivity.”

Qrow lifts his head from James’ chest and stretches up to close the gap between them. “I think I can work with that,” he says, and kisses James soundly.


End file.
